


Beep Beep. What's That? Oh, It's a Katana

by bellefleuur (epanouiii)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: :DD!!, Crack, First Dates, First Meetings, Gen, Godfather Sirius Black, Love at First Sight, M/M, Meet-Cute, but for crack cocaine, for sirius at least, happy birthday bby cantaloupe!!, he dotes on harry sm, remus is too feral for that rn, so much crack, that is what sirius calls it when he retells the story, this is basically a smoker's den, this was made for someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26209378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epanouiii/pseuds/bellefleuur
Summary: Sirius Black is a young mob boss. Remus Lupin is a feral assassin who goes by the aliasWerewolf.Together, they are a match made in hell.~Alternatively, the meet-cute to end all meet-cutes.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin - pre relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 111





	Beep Beep. What's That? Oh, It's a Katana

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wooly_Marmalade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wooly_Marmalade/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Beep Beep. What's That? Oh, It's a Knife](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276663) by [Wooly_Marmalade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wooly_Marmalade/pseuds/Wooly_Marmalade). 



> this is for u daddy !! my bday present to u bc u live halfway across the world and shipping is exPensive *beez are cool* ~(,)~ im making shit up as i go bc i cant remember everything but it should be mostly okay
> 
> love u highkey even tho ur a phat butt sometimes (do not misconstrue this message and think i said u hAve a phat butt bc u don’t. butts don’t get phat from soylent and thats a fact)

“Yeah, James, I got it. I’ll pick up Harry at two"—he corrects himself at the sound of James’ shout—“two _thirty._ Uh huh, yep. Bye.”

Pocketing his phone, Sirius starts flipping through the long list of bodyguards again. _Russian… once protected the Prince of Wales…speaks four languages…muscly…five counts of sexual assault._ “Fuck me, why are all the good ones molesters?”

He’s been trying to find a suitable bodyguard for his godson for weeks. London is a cesspool for criminal activity (as he can attest to personally), and he’s been whittling James down slowly over the last few months—to the point where he’s even agreed to let Lily in on Black family business. It would be really hard to explain if one day someone shows up saying they’re here to protect “the boss’ godson.” And as Sirius is Harry’s only godparent, Lily going to have some questions for him. For both of them.

Now, if only he could find an _actually_ reputable person to keep Harry from harm.

“Boss, we’re here.”

Sirius looks up from the file. “Thanks, Lenny. Go ahead and put away the car.”

“Yes, sir.”

He hops out of the car, closing the door behind him (because _no_ , he doesn’t need someone to open it for him, no matter what James says) and enters one of his London townhouses—the one he uses for when Lily and/or Harry come to visit. It isn’t anything special, not like his other homes, but he needs to keep up appearances. 

_But not for long,_ he thinks as he looks at the files in his arms. 

“John, put these in my office.” He hands them off to one of his two bodyguards, who takes it and disappears through the hallway. Tonks has already gone to go relax.

Sirius stretches as he heads over to the small kitchen to make himself a cuppa. All he’s been doing is looking at those files recently. He needs to make sure Harry isn’t going to be put in danger because some pervy lowlife thought his godson would be an easy target. Not only would James and Lily kill him, but he’d kill him. He never thought he could like kids, let alone want to spend time with one, but something about having a little person who adores him is nice. The fact that Harry is like a tiny copy of his best friends doesn’t hurt, either. 

Finally, his tea finishes steeping. It’s a camomile blend. Really calms him down. He’s going to need it for when he has to spend the day with Harry—the kid acts like he drinks Monster energy drinks all day. Not that Sirius can really judge, considering the way he and James acted when they were younger. He’s sure Lily would insist that nothing’s really changed.

When he gets to his office, he finds John standing in front of his desk, and promptly rolls his eyes. “You can go relax a bit. We won’t be leaving until quarter-past-two.”

John nods stiffly, ever the serious one, and exist the room. 

Sirius sits down to go through what looks like thirty folders. 

_Barty Crouch Jnr…British…can cook…blackbelt in Tae Kwon Do…pyromaniac._

_Alastor Moody…also known as Mad-Eye Moody…military trained…previous school teacher…fired for traumatising students._

_Alecto and Amycus Carrow…institutionalised four times in the past twenty years…twelve counts of murder…kidnapping and torture of schoolchildren._

That last one, he rips up personally. 

He’s about to give up—siriusly, do the people who gave these to him not know what a _bodyguard_ is—when he catches sight of the final file.

_David Rossi…Italian…likes to go by Dave…experience with childcare…worked at a kindergarten for six years…trained in Northern Shaolin King Fu._

He’s just found his guy.

But before Sirius can celebrate, the air vent in the corner of his room busts open, and from it comes out a figure cloaked in black. Sirius barely has time to duck before a knife is thrown at him. It cuts through the smooth leather of his chair.

“Aw, c’mon. I liked that chair!”

The figure doesn’t seem to care very much, because they immediately throw another knife at him. This time Sirius isn’t quick enough and it pierces his shoulder. 

“John! Tonks! Get off your lazy arses and come in here!” He shouts, yanking a short blade out from one of the light fixtures. He has them located all around the house. 

The figure, a tall, lanky man with blue eyes, progresses towards him, a katana in his right hand. Sirius charges first, swinging his own blade at him. But the figure dodges, swinging around his body to get behind him. When Sirius turns to strike him again, he blocks it, bringing the blade down to clip Sirius’ forearm. 

They make a mess of the room as Sirius continues to get a hit on him, only to have his attempts thrown back in his face. Literally. He almost loses a chunk of hair from the katana getting too close to his face. 

He’s panting from the fight, having gotten used to fighting with guns, and his shoulder’s twanging painfully with every move. _Where in the bloody fuck are his bodyguards?_ Over the man’s shoulder, Sirius spies his desk. In one of the drawers is a gun. If only he could get to it…

Feigning to the right, he shoulders past the figure and knocks them into a decorative vase. It crashes to the ground. But Sirius doesn’t have time to worry about broken décor, so he lunges for his desk, wrenches open the drawer and pulls out his handgun. In less than five seconds does he have it loaded and aimed at the figure, who’s only just gotten up from his fall, eyes narrowed dangerously. 

He’s just gotten back to his feet, wobbling slightly, when John and Tonks decide to bust open the door to the office. They crowd the figure, batting his katana to the floor with a clash and restraining him.

“We’re so sorry, sir,” Tonks stammers, pulling their struggling assassin back towards her. “He must’ve knocked us out before getting to you.” 

They’ve both got gashes on their foreheads, the blood dripping a slow line down their faces. He has half a mind to shoot them instead.

“Unmask him.” He makes sure his voice is biting.

John jerks off the cloth mask, revealing the face of a…boy. He can’t be any older than Sirius, maybe even younger. He has thin silver scars etched into his face—through his right eyebrow, across his cheek, his chin—and wild, messy blond curls than bounce in front of his glaring eyes, which, and not that Sirius is looking—no, sir, he is _completely_ professional—are an exceptionally clear blue. 

Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, Sirius demands, “What’s your name?”

His lips pull up into a silent snarl. “Werewolf.”

“Your real name.”

“Remus Lupin.”

“I see you have running theme, Werewolf McWerewolf,” he jokes, but it doesn’t so much as get a tilt of the lips from him. _Tough crowd._ “Why were you trying to kill me?”

“I was hired to.”

“By whom?”

“I—” his eyes flicker to the gun held in Sirius’ hand, poised to fire, and seems to sag in John and Tonk’s hold. “One Millicent Bagnold.”

“The politician? But why would she…” He recalls the memory of him threatening to uncover all of her dirty laundry for the whole U.K. to see. “Right. Well, Remus, you’re in luck. Because I’m not going to kill you.”

“What?” Remus says.

“ _What?_ ” Tonks and John shout.

“Yep, you’re way too cute to die.” He aims a smirk at Remus and watches as a blush settles across his cheeks. “As for you two”—he looks to his bodyguards—“I’ve decided not to kill you either for the same reason. That he’s cute, not you. You don’t deserve compliments after your royal fuck up,” he declares, with all the poise and grace of the Queen, and claps his hands. “ _Now._ take him downstairs and lock him up. I’ve got someone to pick up. Oh, and get this all cleaned up. I don’t need Prongslet asking questions.”

He turns his eye to the clock on the wall above his desk and swears. 

It’s 2:43.

Lily’s going to kill him.


End file.
